


Operation Synchronous

by Daziechane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Based on a Rihanna Song, Gen, Lip Synch Battle, Song: Umbrella (Rihanna), blatant abuse of brollies, dancerlock, kind of dancerlock, tom holland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daziechane/pseuds/Daziechane
Summary: Sherlock never welches on a bet.  That doesn't mean he'll give in easily, however.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 61
Collections: The Curious Case of Ole Twinkletoes





	Operation Synchronous

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [Tom Holland's amazeballs Lip Sync Battle.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPCJIB1f7jk) If you haven't watched it, **do it now.**  
>   
>  **Y'ALL. THERE'S ARTWORK.** The fabulous @Khorazir made  
> [ART!](https://khorazir.tumblr.com/post/638155185682776064/ink-and-watercolour-art-inspired-by-the-amusing)

John closed the front door with his foot, his hands full of Tesco bags. All in all, it had been a decent trip to the store, even with the texts from Sherlock asking for lemonade, 4 glue sticks, and “as many Brussels sprouts as would fit in a miniature horse’s mouth.” (John guessed eight)

He made his way upstairs and opened the sitting room door onto a familiar scene. The Holmes brothers locked in a silent argument. He turned toward the kitchen and set down the bags. 

Mycroft finally broke the silence. “You owe me. You placed a wager, lost, and I am here to collect.”

“You’re hardly the leg breaker type, Mycroft. What’s in this for you besides my abject and public humiliation?”

“Isn’t that enough? Besides, I’m perfectly ready to inform all of London that you go back on your bets.”

Mycroft pulled out his mobile and dialed.

“Anthea dear, Operation Welcher is a go. Repeat....”

“Oh, all **RIGHT**. I’ll do it. Call off your hounds and stop trying to ruin my reputation.”

Mycroft smiled coldly.

“Belay that. Operation Synchronous is now a go. Make the proper arrangements. That is all.”

He hung up and turned to leave. 

“Think about what you’ll be presenting, Sherlock, and remember that I have final approval.”

“Fine. _Singing in The Rain_. I’ll need an umbrella, I’m sure one of your “regular” ones will suffice. I’ll take the [Lockwood Bespoke](https://www.lockwoodumbrellas.com/product/made-to-order/) with the chestnut handle and Nepalese horn button, that’s your best, isn’t it?”

John, whose umbrellas usually came from the lost and found bin at work, wondered what constituted a “regular” umbrella, and silently marveled at the idea of a bespoke one at that. He decided Mycroft’s “irregular” umbrellas were useful for more than just sudden rainstorms.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, thought for a moment, “You’ll have the [James Smith & Sons Grosvenor Slim](https://www.james-smith.co.uk/product/umbrellas/gents-umbrellas/the-slim/slim-rolled-grovesnor/). Second best.” And left.

John ventured out of the kitchen. “Operation Synchronous? What has Mycroft gotten us into now?”

Sherlock sighed and flopped onto the sofa. “Not us this time, John. Just me. This is yet another instance in the long line of Mycroft’s attempts to humiliate me. He has _dragooned_ me into performing in a ‘Celebrity Lip Sync’ contest for charity.”

*********

Surprisingly, John managed a week of full shifts at the clinic in a row, no cases on, London’s criminal underworld seemingly on holiday. Even so, Sherlock spent much of his time out of the flat, John assumed he was rehearsing.

In addition to the umbrella that was delivered by one of Mycroft’s silent minions (#3, John noted), another dozen arrived, then a pair of shiny black “combat” boots, and a small box from [Luna Mae](https://www.lunamaelondon.com/). John couldn’t even hazard a connection, although he did make sure to put Mycroft’s umbrella in his room whenever possible, just to make sure Sherlock didn’t “accidentally” spill acid on it, or set it on fire, or break it into a thousand pieces by testing its tensile strength when wet vs. dry. He could use the Primark brollies for those experiments.

*********

The day of the competition arrived, and Sherlock all but pushed John out of the flat. 

“I will see you there. I have a few last-minute details to arrange and you are thinking too much now GO.”

John sniffed, more irritated than angry. “Fine. But don’t forget to lock up when you leave, I’m taking Mrs. Hudson with me.” Silent Minion #4 had delivered two tickets the day before, with express written instructions from Mycroft that Mrs. Hudson was to be John’s “plus one.” 

At the theatre, John was pleased to see that Molly, Lestrade, and Angelo had also received tickets, and that their seats were excellent, front and center. Catching a glimpse of Mycroft in one of the side boxes, he nodded and tipped his imaginary hat. He received a smug grin in return.

The show progressed slowly. Each act was “sponsored” by a company or organization, and the amount donated was based on the volume of applause the act received. Harrod’s ended up donating £2,500 for _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ performed by salesclerks, while Octopus Energy donated £7,000 for its technicians dancing and lip synching to _Octopus’s Garden_. John laughed and clapped loudly for that one.

Sherlock was scheduled to be the final act, sponsored by “Meridian Imports.” When John had asked what company that was, Sherlock had merely glared at him and put a finger aside his nose. Ah. MI6 then. Good to know.

The curtains closed after LAMDA’s team wowed the audience with a near-professional production of _The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees_. John, not really a fan of musical theatre, was nevertheless impressed with the dancing and costuming, and applauded enthusiastically. Parts of the audience hooted and stood, driving LAMDA’s donation up to £13,400. When the noise died down, the emcee informed the crowd that one of LAMDA’s illustrious alumni was not only donating the entire amount the team raised but was also making a matching donation to the school. “Not a _**STRANGE** _choice for a man of his generous nature.” the announcer said, with a wink. The audience chuckled.

Mrs. Hudson spoke up. “That was marvelous! I do hope Sherlock has practiced, it wouldn’t do for him to end the show with a poor performance, especially after that!” Molly and Lestrade nodded, and Angelo boomed that he was certain Sherlock could never disappoint. John agreed but was silently a little worried. How could the world’s only Consulting Detective hold his own against trained thespians? He vowed to give Sherlock a standing ovation no matter what.

The curtains opened to a stylized street scene, with a painted backdrop of shops and a lamppost off to the side. Sherlock, dressed in a plain black suit, white shirt, and black tie stood center stage, leaning casually on Mycroft’s umbrella. Uncharacteristically, he had a fedora smashed low on his curls, and wore the shiny black boots that John had signed for. Before John could puzzle any further, however, the music started, Gene Kelly’s voice came over the speaker system and Sherlock began to dance. 

_I'm singin' in the rain_

_Just singin' in the rain_

_What a glorious feeling_

_And I'm happy again_

John was amazed. Sherlock was light and graceful and smiling like he was having the time of his life. He twirled the umbrella, then leapt up onto the base of the lamppost and spun around it like he was a born dancer. 

After the first verse though, Sherlock danced off behind a wall of umbrellas. “Primark” John’s brain helpfully supplied. Other dancers slid in from the wings, all holding umbrellas and dressed in black. The music changed and the lighting rig lowered while the backdrop was raised. 

_Uh huh, uh huh_

_Yeah, Rihanna_

_Uh huh, uh huh_

_Good girl gone bad_

_Uh huh, uh huh_

_Take three, action_

_Uh huh, uh huh, Hov_

The dancers gyrated while the lights flashed, and the crowd gasped. John glanced up toward Mycroft’s box seat and was pleased to see a look of sour confusion on the Government’s face. 

_You have my heart, and we'll never be worlds apart_

_Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star_

_Baby, 'cause in the dark_

_You can't see shiny cars_

_And that's when you need me there_

_With you I'll always share_

_Because…_

John’s jaw dropped. Sherlock was strutting across the stage in his big black boots, fishnet stockings, hot pants, and a shiny black corset. His eyes were lined with kohl and his hair was styled long and silky. He stabbed the tip of Mycroft’s umbrella onto the stage and snapped his hips in time with the music.

The song progressed and Sherlock’s dancing became more provocative, he planted his feet wide apart and held the umbrella between his thighs, leaving little doubt what he was miming. His full body rolls matched those of the backup dancers, making John shake his head in amazement.

_You can run into my arms_

_It's okay, don't be alarmed_

_Come into me_

_(There's no distance in between our love)_

With those lyrics Sherlock perched on the edge of the stage directly in front of John, writhing and mouthing the words while looking directly into John’s wide eyes. A quick wink and he strode backstage, dragging the umbrella behind him and swinging his hips.

_So gon' and let the rain pour_

_I'll be all you need and more_

As Rihanna sang, the rig over Sherlock’s head opened and water rained down, drenching him and the backup dancers. He stood with his arms open and fists clenched, face to the rain and thighs quivering. 

_Because_

_When the sun shines, we shine together_

_Told you I'll be here forever_

_Said I'll always be your friend_

_Took an oath, I'ma stick it out 'til the end_

_Now that it's raining more than ever_

_Know that we'll still have each other_

_You can stand under my umbrella_

_You can stand under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh_

_Under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh_

Sherlock’s dancing became more sensual, more acrobatic as he undulated and snapped his hips. He knelt and splashed water, a few drops even reaching the front row where his friends sat, agog. As the music ended, he flipped and landed on his back, sopping wet, chest heaving.

After a brief moment’s silence, the auditorium erupted in a roar. The emcee tried to corral the proceedings, but the hooting, screaming, clapping, and whistling went on for several minutes as Sherlock and the dancers stood smiling and dripping onstage. The noise drove the meter off the charts, with nobody sure of exactly how much money was raised from Sherlock’s blockbuster performance.

*********

The next day Sherlock received a text. “£22,750. You may keep the umbrella.” He laughed and showed John.

“That’s wonderful, Sherlock! Mycroft should be so pleased!”

“Not really, John. My entry into this contest was supposed to be a joke. He assumed I would fail spectacularly, so he offered to provide the entirety of Meridian Imports’ donation. He’s out £22,750 and his second-best umbrella. _That_ should teach him to not underestimate me.” 

He grinned. 

“Dinner?”


End file.
